


The Doctor is insane

by Ashtore



Category: Dragonball Z
Genre: F/M, Gen, Mystery, Romance, Sickness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2017-10-27 07:10:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/293058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashtore/pseuds/Ashtore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vegeta becomes sick and no one can figure out why. B/V Friendship in later chapters. Takes place in the year before the infamous 'three years'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sunlight filters through the curtains and illuminates the dark room with its soft light. Against the far wall and facing the window is a four poster bed. It has dark blue trappings and its comforter is slightly rumpled with a lump in the middle. A hand appears from under the blankets, grabbing a digital clock from the bedside table.

""Fuck!" I growl and throw the clock back on the table. I hear a muffled 'thunk' and grin.

Then a loud and obnoxious beeping reaches my ears and my eyes narrow.

The loud noise grates on my last nerve.

I leap from the bed with a growl, pouncing on the plastic monstrosity with both hands with a satisfying 'crunch'. I pick up the broken remains and throw them against the wall.

I comb my hand through my hair with a sigh and fall back onto the bed. I drift off but snapshots of claws and blood flash through my mind, crushing what little peace further sleep offers. I shake the dark thoughts away and try to disentangle myself from the bed sheets.

My stomach suddenly lurches, the bed creaking as I leap up, and sheets falling to the floor as I rush to the bathroom.

"Ug…"

'I knew her cooking was bad but…'  
Sweat drips down my face and I heave up burning bile.  
I grip the toilet seat and try to breathe but instead choke on the smell.

I lean back and close my eyes. I sit there, my breath the only sound, for a few moments and then open my eyes. I try to stand and lean heavily against the wall. I try to focus on getting my shaking legs back under me and once the room stops spinning around me I lean over, carefully, and flush the toilet.

My legs wobble as the water swirls around and around…

I gulp down bile and shuffle over to the shower and turn on the water. Getting in I am hit by a blast of cold water, I jerk back, slamming against the back of the shower.

My legs choose then to give out on me and I fall, with a loud splash as I hit the bottom tiles. My head hits the side with a 'clunk that reverberates through my skull and my vision blurs.

As my vison clears, I slowly sit up, gingerly fingering the back of my head.

"Dammit…" I grumble as I sit here and let the cool water wash over me.

I reach up above my head, with my other hand, and grab the damn shampoo bottle. I pour a large amount onto my hair and begin to massage it into my scalp.

Wincing as I hit a sore spot.

I have been somewhere near to exhaustion for quite some time now

My eyes close as I massage my neck.

Though, that fact alone is not anything resembling an epiphany. I just returned from weeklong meditation in the mountains where I fasted until I could barely stand, so it made some sense.

"Hmm…" I finish scrubbing and stand up to rinse off.

'The exhaustion is explainable and for that matter so is the vomiting.'

I shrug dismissively.

Even if both are explainable, I should avoid aggravating it with over exertion. I don't want to run the risk of catching a Human Virus.

That would be unacceptable.

\-------------------------------------

I glare down at them but they continue to sizzle away in the pan.

I'm usually a competent cook!

I use the spatula in my right hand to turn them over, but still manage to break both yolks.

I breathe in through my nose and give up.

I scramble them instead.

Eggs, for some reason, I am totally at a loss with.

I pick up my plate and slide my breakfast onto it before sitting down at the table. I only pick at my food though, I'm hungry but suddenly the thought of scrambled eggs, again, isn't as appealing as it was when I saw the egg carton in the fridge.

Kind of like a certain 'relationship' as of late.

Sigh… It just isn't like it used to be…

Yamcha was always indecisive but lately his fickle nature just isn't as endearing.

I sigh and continue to pick at my plate, I'm a little disappointed with both of them but not yet willing give up on either just yet.

The soft pads of HIS bare feet are a little unnerving but I still don't turn immediately. I continue picking at my eggs instead and hope that he leaves me the hell alone.

I would be a called crazy since I'm not more wary around the man but I just really haven't been the same since Namek and all its craziness.

*Sigh*

Yamcha wasn't there and he doesn't understand but what frustrates me most is that he won't even try.


	2. Chapter 2

I can smell her before I even open the door. 

Its common knowledge that I detest most people but I'm intelligent enough to realize really its not their fault, not entirely at least. 

Its more a gut feeling than anything rational, the disgust I feel for them.

As much as a predator is disgusted by their prey, I suppose.

The door is slightly ajar. 

I smell the fear, the air is coated with it and my stomach rolls treacherously.

I sniff the air, grimacing at the stale odor. 

Inside, I'm pleased.

My shoulders lose some of the tenseness. 

The younger woman, Bulma, is an enigma to me.

She acts like she is afraid of me but my nose tells me different.

Its irrational really, the pleasure that fact gives me. 

She isn't really frightened of me, but somehow knows it would be wise to keep that fact to herself.

I don't know, with certainty at least, if she does it consciously but the feeling remains.

I like it.

She doesn't need to know that though.

I smirk and squaring my shoulders,  I push the door open.

\------

 The door swings open behind me and I flinch.

I can almost hear him berating me for sitting where I can't see who enters, he's done it often enough.

I'm usually more conscious but I was distracted.

We have an...understanding, I act like I'm scared and he looks scary.

Its mostly for Yamucha's benefit though and  the fickle man's absence makes a palatable difference.

I sip my coffee calmly, listening as footsteps circle my chair, his hand glancing against it.

I smirk into my cup.

**_the dance begins_ **

"Morning, grumpy.  Sleep well?"

He doesn't speak but does grunt at me.

"Well, I did, in case you were wondering."

Another grunt. I almost chuckle, the week away hasn't changed him at all.

Not that I would expect it too.

Its fun, this almost conversation. 

We only have them early in the morning, when the nameks are sleeping and my parents are...doing whatever they do  this early in the morning.

I feel a flutter of excitement that's been missing this last week.

The nameks are very sweet guests but sometimes I miss the lemons in my life.

I can gauge his mood by the way he responds or doesn't. 

I have notebooks dedicated to the mystery of it.

_**you  had notebooks for Yamucha too.'**_ my inner critic points out.

I know I have a pattern, not just with with men.

I can't deny that, But I still find Vegeta fascinating

\----

She enjoys this...teasing.

Its almost enough to make me growl but I play along.

Its fun to play with her.

**_Your enjoying it too much._ **

Its only fun. Nothing serious.

Her mate, fickle as he is, isn't as fun. 

He practically reeks of fear whenever I see him.

I grimace at the memory.

**_Even when he doesn't see me there._ **

Something twists inside me and I swallow bile.

"Are you alright? Vegeta?" Panic is in her voice.

The room is spinning and I lose my balance.

A sharp pain, then everything goes black before I hit the floor.

* * *

 

I watch as he falls to the ground, hard.

I wince.

My cup is shattered on the ground.

My hand is bleeding but I stay kneeling on the ground, shaking as a stretcher is brought in and Vegeta is carried away. 

Someone called for help but its all a blur.

He just collapsed without a warning.

He hit his head on the counter he was leaning on.

_He vomited in the sink_

I hadn't really thought Saiya-Jins could get sick but I really didn't know.

I had never guessed I would need to know.

Goku, the only saiya-jin I knew,  never got sick.

_But he was raised here_

This made a sick sort of sense,  now that I thought about it.

He would be quite vulnerable to our viruses, I had no idea of the vaccination practices of...space ships.

_Isn't that a thought, space ship vaccination practices?_

It opened up a whole slew of problems to solve is what it did.

That I could work with.

I blinked, shaking my head to clear it.

I got up, wiping the tears away.

I had work to do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, posting another chapter. This isn't really edited but I'm putting out there while I am inspired. Its taking a different turn than originally but still....:) leave some comments I may post more if your lucky!


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